


Holiday Interlude 2

by StarryNighty



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas Fluff, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kidnapping, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNighty/pseuds/StarryNighty
Summary: 18+, bit-o-fluff, sprinkle of angst, flash of gray Clark Kent, smut, implied stalking, dark implications at the end. Proceed with caution!
Relationships: Clark Kent/Black Reader, Clark Kent/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	Holiday Interlude 2

Why did you wear _these_ shoes? 

Under the rumble of multiple conversations going on around you the low melodic hum of _Baby Please Come Home_ played throughout the bar. Balling up one of your fists into your lap, hoping to disappear into the back of your stool seat, you pressed harder against it and held your phone tighter in the other. People roared with laughter occasionally. Others tried to sing in time, while every once in a while a random person would step to your side, order a drink, and leave.

You did your best to wiggle tightly bound toes within heels that hadn’t seen the light of day in more than a year. _Oh well_ , it was the least of your worries. You were also overly dressed for a bar packed with hoodie and jean wearing locals. You sat on the stool at the bar, checkered pin skirt sucking every bit of you into a smooth shape. You should have left your jacket on. The navy blue long-sleeved top hardly helped with the chill crawling up your back. Off the shoulder was sexy, but what did it matter now that your date had not shown up. 

Instead, you stuck out, became a beacon, a cautionary tale perhaps of meeting a stranger and being left stranded.

You weren’t even from around here. Metropolis grated against your country-living hospitalities. Well, small town-lack of 24 hours shops, hospitalities. Everything had a smell, the street perfumed with the fragrance of both smog and food left you sick. And the noise, you had been here for two days and had yet to have an uninterrupted night sleep. 

A sharp bang came from behind you. The sound was low, muffled, like a car backfiring perhaps. You swiveled around, a pair of men were beating the shit out of each other, the smaller one had the larger on the top of the table, pounding the man’s face. You were about to grab for your coat when another came between the two. 

You glanced at your phone. A nervous habit really and the soul nuisance of your night as your date had never answered your text. 

The man calmed the scene and as the crowd dispersed, the noise leveled out back to the low pitch of voices, you turned back toward the bar. The man behind the counter refilled your glass of whiskey, a subtle kind smile, and left you alone once again.

“Crazy night huh?” said a man’s voice.

You peered over your glass to the man now standing at your right. The same guy from a few moments before who had broken the fight up. A city dweller from the looks of him. Blue flannel over a simple gray shirt, jeans with the curled ends of dark brown hair poking out around the edge of his cap. He pushed up the black-rimmed glasses back to the bridge of his nose. He smiled kindly. 

He put his elbow on the bar, hooked a thumb back toward the area of the previous scene.

“The holidays seem to bring it out in people.”

You placed the glass back down, smiled back at him in return, and slightly nodded. He grinned back once again through the scruff of patchy hair encircling his mouth. His eyes glanced over your body for a second, but it was long enough for you to take in him assessing you as well.

“For a bar like this, you stand out.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes and offered another nod while pulling hard on the tumbler of whiskey. 

“--No, no-” he started to stutter, cleared his throat while adjusting the brim of his cap a little higher above his eyes. “You look great. I just meant, for _here_ ,” he peered into the room just beyond you. 

You couldn’t help the crooked grin or the blaze humming across your skin.

“I was supposed to meet someone here.” you swallowed again, letting the burn linger a bit in the back of your throat before you spoke again. “They had other plans I guess.”

Suddenly he jutted out a thick hand extending it in front of you. “Well I’m Clark Kent, it’s nice to meet you,” he said.

The music switched up to a more upbeat Jingle Bell swing as you reached for his hand. You offered up your name, squeezed tight as you shook it back, with a smile.

“You want to get out of here?” His eyes landed back on the glass in your hand. “Once your drink is done? There’s a quick place down the block, great food.”

You studied him for a moment. Considering you were new in town, didn’t know your way around in this giant moving citing that seemingly never slept - but he appeared kind enough.

More than that, hopefully, it wasn’t the booze talking, he was handsome and easy to talk to. 

“Sure?” you started to laugh. “What could happen while being with a complete stranger?”

You could tell he didn’t know how to answer your sarcastic quip. Clark stood up straight, aligned his shoulders tight, tilted his chin up a bit higher.

Unfurling his size before your eyes, he stood tall next to you. “Most friends start as strangers, right?” Clark grinned back at you, relaxed his shoulders a bit, and took a small step away to allow you to slide from the barstool. 

“So let’s get some food.” 

“Okay, okay. Yes, I’ll go. I hope it’s good.”

Slightly buzzed off the three drinks, Clark walked behind you out of the bar and onto the icy sidewalk. At once a group of giggling, bubbling with what the night had to offer, a group of people stormed right in front of you, pushing you out of the way. A couple of hands held your hips, drawing you further away from them, proactively he guided you on the outskirts of the group and further away from the bar. 

“Busy for a Thursday!” said Clark from behind you. His hand stayed on your lower back as he came around. “Must be the holidays.”

Clark seemed to realize he was still touching you when his hand dropped and jabbed into his front pant pockets. 

“It’s just down here,” He pointed with the other. And true to his word, a small line with a few people deep was close. 

“What kind of food?” you asked while trying to retain some of the warmth his hand had left under your jacket.

“A bit of everything I think.” He glanced down at you from under his cap. You tried not to stare, but _damn_. Out on the street, with the gentle glow of the pale street lights, you could see his face clearer. “But I like the tacos,” he added and lifted his eyes back in the direction of the restaurant. 

The line moved fast, you ordered what he ordered; two soft tacos with spicy condiments. Against your unflinching comments, Clark paid for yours along with his. And when the pleased woman behind the counter handed him the heavy bag Clark asked something you weren’t sure how to answer.

“Do you want to go back to my place?”

The two of you walked a few steps, once again you were considering. You were the type of person who went with the instinct, and your gut told you he was _okay_. But then again, monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Clark smiled as he turned to you with the bag in hand.

He shrugged as he continued to gaze back at you. “--Sorry that was forward. I just wanted to offer you a warm place to eat these.” 

Honestly, you had thought he was just being nice. That he saw a pathetic woman, dressed up, waiting for a date that would never happen and offered a kind hand. But you had witnessed what he had done in the bar by breaking up a fight before. Certainly, that went further to color in the shades of his character? Also, there was no way this man wanted anything more than to have a meal and a friendly conversation. _Right?_

You nodded quickly and skipped the smile. And you followed Clark only another block before you were following him up the steps of his apartment building and through its door. He mumbled on about how the neighbors are quiet, though the one four doors down were loud but only on Sundays. Your heart was beating fast, you had never done anything like this before. So you tried to listen to his words, search for some grounding in the moment at hand. 

Clark appeared to pick up on your nerves. He turned back to you once off the elevator to his floor, he grabbed your hand and led you down the long brick covered hall. “Did you come here for work?” he asked. 

His voice shook you back to his warm hand within yours. “Um- yes. I could have completed it online but I like the feel of seeing the works in person. The museum has so many artifacts, I couldn’t pass it up.” 

“That’s what you do? Like some sort of cataloging?” Clark released your hand, dug in his pocket for the key as he stared at you curiously.

“Sort of. Yes, it’s cataloging, but also returning them to their rightful homes. This particular one arrived here, according to the security footage by a mysterious visitor. Nobody has been able to figure out who he is. But I secretly think it might have been _him_ , you know, _Superman_.”

You pressed your small clutch closer to your chest as you stared at the doorknob. “So many of them were taken under horrible historical circumstances. In some cases, our eyes will never see them again once they are gone from the museum. A bit ghoulish I guess. But they did offer me a new position here, I’m not sure I’ll take it.”

Clark popped open the door, “‘Sounds interesting though. Like something you’re very passionate about. I’ve been having trouble finding that for me. I work at the Daily Planet, it can be boring. ” he said.

He let you walk in first. The same color of brick as the hallway, lined the wall to the windows, where it angled right creating the basic square shape. A Christmas tree stood near the couch and middle window, it was bare, darkened in shadow. But the kitchen light was on, casting light into the living room as you stepped in. A few shelves behind the grey couch were stuffed full of books stacked in whatever fashion he saw fit. It felt cozy overall.

“Home sweet home,” he chimed in as he shut the door behind you. 

Clark walked around you toward the kitchen island, where he sat the bag on the other side of the sink. He glanced back at you, “It’s not much-”

“No, I like it,” you said and joined him at the counter. 

You shed the jacket, placed it on the back of the chair. “Wow.”

“Yeah, these tacos smell great!” you said as Clark paused where he stood. And when you glanced back at him he was staring at you and not the food. 

“What?”

Clark rubbed his chin while he appeared to be considering you. “I thought you were beau-- I mean, _wow_ you’re beautiful.”

You tried to maintain eye contact but opted out to stare back at the food. Heat rose from your chest, crept over your shoulders and down your back, the alcohol was wearing off and this feeling was completely your own. Clark shuffled off the unbuttoned flannel, his cap along with it, and ran his fingers through dark loose curls. 

A steady silence followed while he went back to unwrapping the food. “How about another drink?” you asked. “Do you have anything brown?”

“Uh,” Clark froze for a second in thought and looked over deeper into the kitchen. In the shelves, near the stove, a single bottle stood. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

He walked around you, retrieved two glasses, the bottle, and returned to stand next to you. He poured you three fingers worth about that much for himself and raised his glass.

“To new friends.”

You clinked the glass against his with a nod, swirled the liquid within, and then took a big drink. And three more glasses later you were more than happy to flirt. Well, in your own way with your sarcastic comments about the city, _his eyes the color of a summer sky_ , how the smog was thickest in the mornings, _how big his arms were under that long sleeve shirt_...oh and how everybody always seemed to ignore each other, ah the city.

With every word, you grew closer to him, or did he move in? Behind the blur of booze, it didn’t really matter which. Clark leaned in toward your titled lips and kissed you anyway. You stared back at him shocked and unable to look away as he started to pull his shirt over his head. Ripples of muscles across his chest and down to his waist momentarily gave you pause. Wispy bundles and swirls of thick black hair coated his skin adding to the dips of hard flesh.

Your lower lip hung open, “ _Oh my god…_ ” you whispered. 

Clark wondered back to you, his hands clasped around your forearms, then moved further up before resting on the sides of your face. 

“I--thought you were just being kind to me.” you slurred it out as your hands soon become unable to not touch his chest. “That you saw some dolled up girl and felt sorry for her.”

Clark’s smile slackened, “No, I thought you were beautiful from the second you walked in. I wanted to talk to you. But I waited, and when no one showed up --” he half grinned again. “I took a chance.”

“Going out for food was a bonus--getting you back here-” Clark kissed you again, pulled you back with him as he walked. 

“You--are you sure?” Clark doesn’t stop the cascade of kisses from your jaw, to your neck, pecking your collarbone as his hands wandered down to your ass. He hummed a deep _uh-huh_ and began to unzip the back of your skirt. 

“It’s just--” you tried to speak again but his lips landed back on yours. In the tussle of his hands shimming your skirt down, you let out a giggle. “You look like a god.”

Clark grabbed your hand, tilted his head back, and looked at you. “You don’t have anything to worry about. Not with me.” he narrowed his eyes before he smiled. “Now come here.”

He got you naked and back first on his bed, though you still tried to hide with a well-placed hand here and there. But all thoughts of insecurity flew out the door as Clark pulled down his boxers. What sprung out had you coughing with frantic drunk giggles. 

“I’ve--” you started to speak and looked into his eyes. “I’ve never seen one bigger than _that_.” and your eyes dipped back down between your legs at his long, thick, uncut, cock. 

Clark’s large body bends at the waist as he crawls further up to you. He said nothing but offered a warm smile as he settled between your hips. The muscles of his arms looked wholly larger, as he laid propped up on the palms of his hands. The tip of him swept down your slit causing you to buck your hips.

“Sensitive?” he whispered and angled his hips again - this time the soft, warm end pressed into you. “And wet.” 

You settled in, spreading your legs wider, lifting your feet off the bed, and curled them near his ribs. He pushed in further, you were soaked as he inched in more. Sinking into you, the action takes him over, the warmth, the tightness has him falling on top of you. Clark raked his teeth up the column of your neck to your mouth. He kissed you hard, sucked in your bottom lip as he slid in with a powerful stroke. 

He wasn’t the quiet man that you expected him to be. Far from the unnamed person, you laid eyes on a few hours ago, Clark grabbed your wrists, wrapped his hands tight around them, and crossed them behind your head. You whimpered out his name as your head lulled desperately left and right. You arched your back the moment the roughness of his coarse hair grinds across your clit. 

Your murmurs whine out in feathered aching. He could feel clutching within to the point angled his hips to prod deeper and to quicken the pace. Eye to eye, he watches you fall apart all at once. The sensation hit fast that you weren’t sure you were even almost there until it happened. But you did, and you tried to grab for him. But his grip tightened around your wrists, he huddled in close brushing his chest against your body as his hips filled you as deep as he wanted. 

Despite the hushed groans, the long, languid roll of his hips, he didn’t last long either. Soon after Clark sputtered to an end with his mouth on yours. “Sorry-” embarrassed he moved his head down the side of your cheek so as not to look in your eyes. 

“It’s--been more than a while,” he said quietly, panting.

Clark slumped to your side, your leg still underneath his waist. “Me too…” you huffed out, still transfixed on the last few moments. “Six years and counting. Well, not anymore,” you chuckled.

You laid there for a few more minutes with Clark slowly stroking the skin of your inner thigh. Not knowing what came next you did like the movies, or as your friends had done. You sat up, tugged your leg from under him, and looked around the room for your clothes.

“You’re leaving?” Clark propped his head in his hand and stared up at you.

You pulled at the blanket near in an attempt to clumsily cover your body. You shrugged, not meeting his eyes, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to stay?”

Clark lunged forward, held you around your shoulders, and body and pulled you back down into the bed at his side.

“Leave?” Clark held you close in his arms. “Do you know how hard it was to get that artifact to the museum? I had to track down a dozen shitty guys to get something that I knew would get your attention.”

Dizzy still with the liquor in your veins you blinked a few times and hoped what you were hearing was just an illusion. 

“Seems like a lot--but you’re worth it.” He sounded so sure and nuzzled his nose in near your ear. 

“What? Wait,” you tried to speak but Clark squeezed a little harder and started to peck your neck with soft kisses. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

This time the panic uncoiled from your belly as you pushed back against him. “Who are you?” 

Clark’s hold was like steel as he wrapped his arm under you. With the other, he removed his glasses. Under the dim light pouring into the room from the kitchen, you stared back at him. The eyes, the nose, and now that you couldn’t get an inch from him it all made sense. 

“ _Fuck.._ ”

Clark sat up and so did you. He dragged you over his leg and sat you in between his as he flung the glasses to the other side of the bed. 

“It’s not easy meeting the love of your life.” Unrestrained and a bit desperate, Clark held your arms and forced your face in his direction. 

“You’re going to take it right? The position? Don’t disappoint me, baby.” 

He crushed his lips onto yours, dipped his tongue in a bit before he pulled back. “Say yes,” he muttered as his hands coasted down your neck and over your bare shoulders. 

Superman, Kal-El stared back at you waiting for an answer. It was most definitely a lie, “Yes.”

Clark’s lips split into a delirious grin. “Good, then we’ll look for a bigger apartment tomorrow.”

You frowned and held the side of your head as the familiar thump-thump of a headache started to form. 

“Well maybe not tomorrow.” he laughed slightly as he continued to speak, “It’s Christmas Eve. I think the two of us can spend it getting to know each other-” one of his hands slid over to your breasts.

“--a little better…” Clark leaned in toward you, thick fingers pulled your chin up so that your lips hovered over his. 

“It’ll be the best Christmas ever.” he smoothly said.


End file.
